Dear Pharmaceutical Industry, OTC Sinus Division:
We need to talk; this relationship just isn’t working out very well.
Remember, way back in the beginning, when we first hooked up and I revealed my father issues to you? How the three main things I have inherited from him are blue eyes, frizzy hair, and a fairly crappy respiratory system, the last of which predisposes me to asthma attacks, allergies, bronchitis, pneumonia, and all kinds of fun chronic annoyances, including sinus infections? Back then, you were still willing to take me on, even with all my issues - you swore you could overcome them unflinchingly.
Well, I know you’ve had a few obstacles thrown in your way recently, and I’ve tried to be understanding. Meth addiction can be quite a barrier to one’s normal daily routine. Who wouldn’t be sympathetic to the plight of those who have suffered from the collateral damage of this scourge of America’s communities?
But why, oh why did you have to take away my nice fake generic Sudafed, with its joyous OTC pseudoephedrine? Given my longstanding father issues, it was the only nonprescription decongestant that wasn’t contraindicated for me, unless the pharmacist has also been holding out on the one thing that will alleviate my pain and make me happy - all the others taunt me with their cruel false promises of relief from the pain and unrelenting pressure, until I read the fine print: “do not take if you have chronic cough, such as with…asthma.”
So I stood by you anyway, knowing in my heart of hearts that you were my only choice, even when you limited my access, doubting my maturity, my ability to know what was good for me, and even making me beg for it. You feared I would be overstimulated, and perhaps justifiably so, with your insanely powerful non-drowsy formulation. But even then, I knew I could still take whatever you had to dish out, even if I don’t deserve it.
Until today. This was just the last straw. Trusting in the relief you had joyously provided me for so long, I stumbled, foggy and bleary-eyed, to the pharmacy, hoping for release from my torment. Arriving at our usual rendez-vous spot, I saw, surprised but gleeful, that you had decided no longer to hold back - everything you had to offer was right there for the taking. I happily embraced what I knew would relieve my anguish, and dashed back to what I hoped would be sweet, sweet escape from the pain of my daily existence.
However, within the hour I realized that it would never again be the same between us. Yes, the feeling of overwhelming pressure was gradually slipping away, but at what cost? My heart was suddenly pounding, and a quick dash upstairs revealed that my blood pressure had gone from its usually nice, low level of “clinically dead” to clinically hypertensive, all in the space of an hour. My pulse was indeed racing, and the supportive ladies upstairs advised me that there was nothing I could do but lie there and wait for your ill effects to pass, and never to fall into your evil clutches again. Heart palpitating, I glanced again at the box, which suddenly mocked me - “New! Reformulated!” it cried, though I had loved it the way it was before all this misfortune befell us.
Now I have truly made the harsh realization that it will never be the same between us. You have destroyed my trust and driven me into the arms of another man, for I know that you have no trust in me, either - all because of the wrongdoing of others, which, sadly, has torn us asunder.
